My Bodyguard Is My Ex Boyfriend

Chapter One: Chaos

Content Warning: This story contains violence, language, adult content, and abusive relationships. Reader discretion is advised.

Brandy

I couldn't believe it!

Alana, the little twit, had mixed her drinks and ended up getting sick. Any normal, considerate drunk would have announced such a predicament. However, she hadn't. And she projectile vomited all over the backseat of my car just minutes after we left the party. The passengers and myself--the designated driver--had not been spared.

I knew I shouldn't have allowed Brenda to talk me into going out tonight!

Not only had I abstained from drinking because it was my turn to drive, I now had a major mess to clean up. The unfortunate thing being, once Alana let open the floodgates, many of the other occupants couldn't stomach the smell and having vomit sprayed all over them. So, my car was just one big, smelly mess. I was tempted to throw the whole car out and torch it.

It was three in the morning. I was beat. Beyond annoyed. I just wanted to shower and go to sleep.

As I pulled up to the front gate of the mansion my father had bought five years ago on the coast just outside of San Francisco, I sat uncomfortably in my car as I punched in the code. This old, decrepit thing was slow and sometimes didn't work. When it didn't work the first time, I slammed a fist on top of it and tried again. It binged with an affirmation and I heard the whirring of the engine as it slowly started responding.While I waited for the heavy gate to roll open, I noticed another set of headlights turn onto the road. No big deal. It was probably just another rich, drunk kid headed home. Ignoring the vehicle, I turned my attention to my phone. I would soon come to regret my decision to disregard the car as a threat.

Looking up different car cleaning services and researching if they specialized in extracting vomit from carpet, seats and headliners, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My gaze jumped instantly to the rearview mirror where I saw the car I had shrugged off stopped directly behind my bumper. Frantically, my gaze dropped to the gate. It wasn't even halfway open. I was a sitting duck.

Well, s**t!

My heart instantly started racing and I was instantly in fight or flight mode.

Deciding it was best to make a run for it, I had just made the decision to kick open my door and race onto the grounds when movement caught my eye. The windows on the car rolled down menacingly and long barrels of wicked-looking guns poked out.

“Seriously!?" I shot as I instantly dropped onto the floor below the steering wheel as bullets tore through the vehicle overhead. I screamed in terror and pressed my hands over my ears, praying I would somehow survive this attack.

There had been an increase in gang activity around the area recently. Hits, like this, were happening more often. However, I was surprised it was happening here. The others had happened within the city limits.

Why was this happening to me!? Ugh! This was the worst night ever!

I should have just stayed at home, safe and sound in my damn bed!

Just as suddenly as the attack started, it stopped. The night was eerily silent, but the thing was: I never heard the car drive away.

Dread gripped my chest and constricted my heart as I desperately tried to listen through the pounding of blood in my ears for any sound. Time was irrelevant, because I was sure hours had passed since all of this had started, when in reality I knew this whole ordeal had happened in only a matter of seconds. A shaky breath filled my air-depraved lungs when I heard the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut.

“Check her boys!" I heard one shout. And for some reason it sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. "The boss wants us to finish the job."

I heard another grunt. "This is a bunch of bull," another grumbled. "I don't see how killing her is going to help."

“The boss thinks it will," the initial ground out and I swore I knew that voice. "The faster we get the job done, the sooner we can get the hell outta here."

What were they talking about?

A job?

Had this been a deliberate hit? And if it had, by who?

My whole body was instantly shaking. There was nowhere for me to run or go...

Wait a minute! Turning myself so I could reach the pedals, I was able to reach the brake and gas with my hand. Reaching up, I put the car in drive and hit the gas. Unfortunately, in my panicked state, I put it in reverse. Tires squealed and my car jerked backwards. Before I had a chance to react and correct my mistake, my car slammed into the parked one behind me and chaotic screams and shouts rent the air. I had to wonder if I had hit or pinned any of them with my vehicle.

My frantic gaze was drawn to the window where it caught on a figure dressed in all black with a cloth face mask pulled over his face, an AR clutched in his hands. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice me as his attention was drawn to the back of my car where the agonized screams were coming from. Not wanting to wait around to give them another shot at me, I slammed my car into drive and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. My car and I jerked forward and we went careening through the now opened gate onto my father's property.

Unfortunately, I was driving blind and seconds into this mad and desperate escape, my car crashed into the large stone fountain preceding the grand entrance into the mansion. The instant and violent impact knocked me out initially.

I don't know how long I was out for, but what felt like moments later, the driver's side door was forced open. In the distance, I heard sirens wailing in the night. My vision swam and it was hard to focus on the person leaning down into the vehicle. For a moment, I thought it was one of the shooters because the man standing over me was dressed in black. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to fight off the hands that reached out and grabbed me, but my body wasn't responding to my commands.

Strong hands grabbed me under my arms and hauled me up off the floor of my vehicle.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, please." Don't kill me. God, don't do this to my family.

Not again.

There was a muffled sound coming from the man who had yanked me out. It was hard to concentrate. My vision was slowly becoming clearer. As seconds ticked by, I realized the man who was holding me wasn't a threat. Nor was he a stranger. His arms were familiar. I knew them, there was no way I could ever forget ...

"Nate?" I asked, confused, my gaze finally focusing enough to recognize his features. His baby blue eyes. His black hair. Could it really be him?

"Brandy!?" he yelled at me, his voice frantic, eyes filled with fear. Though I was sure I had to be imagining it all. He had never really cared for me in the first place.

I felt the air around me shifting as he lowered me to the ground. One strong arm supported my back and shoulders as his other caressed the side of my face, his gaze assessing the damage. "Brandy, stay with me. Stay awake," he commanded, his hand gently slapping my cheek to keep me awake.

I shook my head as tears pricked the corners of my eyes, my hand weakly pushing his away. There was nothing more I wanted than to just drift away into the oblivion of darkness that was starting to close in on my vision. It was too painful to look up at him, too painful to remember everything that had happened between us. "No," I breathed as a different pain speared my heart. Painful memories and past hurts tore through my chest. Pain he had caused me.

Why was he here? I thought he had gone into the military? And, if he had left the military, his home was in Conneticut, not in California. There was no reason for him to be there.

"Brandy!" I heard a different voice shout.

Was that... "Father?" I asked, my head lifting just enough to find him sprinting across the lawn towards us.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, falling down beside us. “Oh f**k," he whispered, his gaze moving over my body. "Brandy. You’re going to be okay. Just, just stay awake okay. An ambulance is on the way. Oh god," he cried, and I wanted to scoff at my father's fake concern. If I had enough energy, I would have rolled my eyes.

Perhaps it was best if death took me now, I thought to myself as I drifted into the awaiting arms of darkness.